- Published on
photo by Lou Dempsey
My Grandpa passed away this week
It makes the land of my childhood
Feel even more far away
We weren’t close
Grandpa and I
He believed in a particular life path
University. Marriage. House. Job. (Babies?).
I think my decision to be an actor
Puzzled and perplexed him.
We didn’t agree on politics.
We didn’t discuss our feelings.
Beyond family lunches and events
We didn’t really do things together.
I wonder if our relationship would have been different if Grandma hadn’t died when she did.
He was the first person I knew with personalised number plates
“RLL”
I remember his car being very tidy
Always with that new car smell
Always with jazz music playing.
When we were little
I remember that, because he had worked for Streets ice cream,
Peters Blue Ribbon ice cream was verboten in the house
I remember he often photographed or filmed family events
Less so in the later years.
When I was twelve
He came to a cross-country meet
He filmed the finish line and said
“Well done.”
He was the one that told me I’d been accepted to uni
He had checked the morning paper
Found my name, and called to congratulate me.
I found his older brother’s service records
On the Australian War Memorial website
We printed them out together.
He went quiet, and got a little teary
We never spoke about it again.
He came to one of my shows
Found there was no parking, and anxious about being in wilds of Strathfield,
Turned around, and drove all the way back to Wahroonga
Without having seen the show.
His emails were short and sweet,
Sometimes cheeky,
After I congratulated him on becoming a great-grandfather, he said
“Shucks! It was nuthin’”
He always ended his emails with
“Love, GPa”
I last saw him at Abuela’s funeral
I had a feeling I wasn’t going to see him again, so
I hugged him extra tight and
Told him I loved him.
It was hard to see him become frail
Struggle to zip up his jacket or hold a cup because of the
Tremble in his hand
I think of him
Wearing his akubra
Legs stretched out in front of him
Arms crossed
Watching the cricket
He had lovely blue eyes
And a crinkly mischievous smile
We may not have been close
Or seen eye to eye
But he was my grandpa.
You had a good innings G’Pa,
Sleep well, and goodnight.
It makes the land of my childhood
Feel even more far away
We weren’t close
Grandpa and I
He believed in a particular life path
University. Marriage. House. Job. (Babies?).
I think my decision to be an actor
Puzzled and perplexed him.
We didn’t agree on politics.
We didn’t discuss our feelings.
Beyond family lunches and events
We didn’t really do things together.
I wonder if our relationship would have been different if Grandma hadn’t died when she did.
He was the first person I knew with personalised number plates
“RLL”
I remember his car being very tidy
Always with that new car smell
Always with jazz music playing.
When we were little
I remember that, because he had worked for Streets ice cream,
Peters Blue Ribbon ice cream was verboten in the house
I remember he often photographed or filmed family events
Less so in the later years.
When I was twelve
He came to a cross-country meet
He filmed the finish line and said
“Well done.”
He was the one that told me I’d been accepted to uni
He had checked the morning paper
Found my name, and called to congratulate me.
I found his older brother’s service records
On the Australian War Memorial website
We printed them out together.
He went quiet, and got a little teary
We never spoke about it again.
He came to one of my shows
Found there was no parking, and anxious about being in wilds of Strathfield,
Turned around, and drove all the way back to Wahroonga
Without having seen the show.
His emails were short and sweet,
Sometimes cheeky,
After I congratulated him on becoming a great-grandfather, he said
“Shucks! It was nuthin’”
He always ended his emails with
“Love, GPa”
I last saw him at Abuela’s funeral
I had a feeling I wasn’t going to see him again, so
I hugged him extra tight and
Told him I loved him.
It was hard to see him become frail
Struggle to zip up his jacket or hold a cup because of the
Tremble in his hand
I think of him
Wearing his akubra
Legs stretched out in front of him
Arms crossed
Watching the cricket
He had lovely blue eyes
And a crinkly mischievous smile
We may not have been close
Or seen eye to eye
But he was my grandpa.
You had a good innings G’Pa,
Sleep well, and goodnight.
0 Comments